Reconnection
by TheAnimeWriterLover
Summary: London was many things, but one of those wasn't stupid. Her husband, the famous England, is getting sick. It appears that it's time for her to make a decision.


London didn't push her nose into other people's business. It was their business. Why should _she_ waste energy for useless information that didn't affect her at all? Due to that, she expected on some level that other people would do the same thing in return. She may appear as a social butterfly, but she liked her private life to stay at that, private. Yet, it was a completely different matter if the person had a problem that affected her, whether directly or indirectly.

The green eyed woman stared into the office that belonged to her nation and husband, England. She watched with a frown at his tired form that rested against the wooden table, asleep. Papers on top of papers looked like they were ready to tumble onto him. Their heights leaned in a zig-zag motion with no telling of which one was the finished pile. As the city and wife of this nation, it wasn't a surprise that she looked worried.

It had been like this for a while. She wasn't as clueless as most people believed. Okay, she admitted that she had a tendency to space out more than a person should, but it hadn't hurt anyone, so far. She had eyes, ears, mouth and a brain. All of which she knew how to use quite well. When one was as old as her and presented the city of London, they can't exactly get away from those skills. Though, it was debatable when it came to other nations and cities.

London debated on whether or not to wake him up. It was mid-afternoon, so it was ideal to not sleep until evening came. Yet, this wasn't the first time either. In the end, she sighed. She left then returned with a blanket, which she draped over the man. From the late nights, doing nothing but work, he could use the extra sleep. It didn't even matter at this point that him falling asleep at his desk during the day had happened for almost a week in a row. _I'll wake him up later_ , she thought, _maybe in an hour or so._ She turned her attention to the working laptop, which had a few files open, one of which was excel. Without regret, but more so worried for her husband's state, she looked over the numbers. A grim look replaced the worrisome. There were too many problems that included both politics and the economy. These problems, each, had at least a handful of solutions with costs added to them. It didn't stop within the United Kingdom's boarders. The numbers and other files included relationships with other nations and wars. They may have left the European Union, but it didn't mean that they didn't care.

The dirty blonde woman saved the files then turned off the machine and placed it on a small empty part of a shelf so that nothing happened to it. She turned her attention back to the table, where she unplugged the house phone from the wall and took England's cellphone. She looked at the said sleeping husband, who barely moved throughout the ruckus. With careful gentleness, she ran her fingers through his hair, which was messier than usual. He made a small noise, but refused to wake up. London looked down at him with a sad look. Things have been crazier than usual, which had caused everyone in the UK, both the nations and the cities, great stress. It didn't help that England fought more frequently with his brothers while she tried to calm not only them but the cities as well, but to no avail.

London rubbed her tired eyes. A headache started to pound its way through her mind. With the blinds shut close, soft footsteps marched out of the room, followed with a quiet click.

The figure strolled over to the kitchen, where a kettle sat, as it awaited with its inside filled with water. It was placed onto the slightly old-fashioned stove, where a small fire was light a second later. Her mind raced miles per second for a solution. Light green eyes looked through the kitchen's door medium sized glass window, which led to the backyard. Per usual, the sky was covered in clouds, but they didn't look too heavy this time around. The plants were in full bloom, which gave a calm atmosphere to the onlookers.

The woman smiled, subconsciously. Old memories of her and England's younger years flooded her mind. Even though times were tough, with wars, invasions and political instability, there were just as equal good times.

She forgot about this land, her home.

The kettle started to screech. The fire was turned off and the tea was made.

London sat down at the kitchen's table, her eyes made their way to the outdoors once more. It was then that an idea popped in her mind. For the second time that afternoon, a true smile beamed through the worried persona. She had a few calls to make.

-ooOOoo-

London made her way to the office once again. A light hum escaped her smiling lips. There was a skip to her steps as she came to a firm stop in front of the wooden door. She didn't bother to knock and walked straight in. Just as when she left, nothing was changed. England was still asleep. It was still dark. No electronics were on. There was just a plain old quiet room with no distractions- except for the papers, but who counted those?

The woman made her way to the still asleep England. Once at his side, she shook him a bit. The blonde man made a noise of protest, but didn't open his eyes. She shook him once more. In responds, he clumsily waved his hand at the air before he turned his head to the other direction and kept still. London stared at him for a good moment before she smirked. She towered over his form. Both arms raised, and moved her pinch formed hands to his sides.

"Bloody hell!"

England cried out as he tumbled off the chair. London slapped a hand over her mouth, snorts and laughter barely contained. Though, she couldn't do much about the shoulders, which shook up and down. Her husband shot to his feet, a tone of drunk-like unsteadiness in the body language as his feet barely managed to keep a good hold onto the ground. His brilliant, yet sleepy, green eyes stared with alarm. He ran his fingers through his hair then paused in realization. He sent an annoyed look at his wife.

London couldn't hold it anymore. She burst into laughter.

"Dear God! Haha- I can't believe," She snorted, "I didn't expect that! A-Are you- haha- okay?"

England groaned at her behaviour. He should have seen it coming. They haven't been married well over 400 years for nothing, after all.

"Chloe, why in the bloody hell did you do that?"

"Really, Arthur, you're acting like I touched your scars."

"Well, you could have."

"Arthur, I know where each and every one of your scars are." London pointed out. The smirk looked mischievous. "They are certainly not there."

A dust of redness made itself known on the husband's cheeks. He huffed, and looked away. He grumbled something underneath his breathe, about her inappropriate suggestion but didn't make an issue out of it. He knew that it would only give her more teasing materials. England noticed the blanket that was on the floor. He turned his attention to his work table, which was empty of the laptop that was placed there. When he looked around with panic, he found where it was put. Once he calmed down, he blinked at the clock then sighed loudly.

"I fell asleep, again."

He more stated than questioned. London lost all of her initial laughter. Instead, the worrisome from earlier in the afternoon returned. She made her way to him, as he picked up the blanket.

"Arthur, this is ridiculous. This is the fifth day in the row that you locked yourself in this office and fell asleep at your desk!"

England grimaced in acknowledgement that there might be a fight now. The nation kept a calm persona as he walked around his wife to place the blanket onto the small couch in the office. He argued back while he finished and turned to face London:

"It's not that bad. I'm fine, really-"

"You're getting sick." London interrupted him with a snap. The man looked at her with wide eyes. The eyes held a clear message. "You haven't been eating well. You have been complaining about the temperature being either too hot or too cold. For the last few days, I noticed how you started to flinch when you move. I'm surprised you aren't coughing yet. How long are you going to keep this up before you collapse from sickness? I swear I will not fight off the grim reaper, again."

England rolled his eyes at the last part. He remembered quite well the last time he had a bad fever. After his recovery, what she told him still made him skeptic to this day. He tried to rationalize with his wife:

"Dear, you didn't see the grim reaper-"

"You believe in unicorns and fairies and flying rats. I know what I saw and I will _not_ go through that again. If I see that thing again, I will certainly make use of my promise to shove a pole up its ass along with a sword and a canon and make sure it explodes."

"My magical friends are real!" The man whined across the room. He hated to have to explain that he wasn't delusional all the time. He turned to his left then said, "You are real flying mint bunny… yes, I know… I-"

"Arthur!" London shouted. England stared at her in silence, as he knew what would happen if he opened his mouth. She sighed and made her way to him. Her hands grabbed one of his and gave it a small squeeze. "I'm worried about you. I mean, look at this." She waved at his work table with one hand. "This is ridiculous. The whole situation is bloody insane. I understand that right now the economy, politics and our people aren't doing too well. But it shouldn't be affecting you this badly. We need a break. _You_ need a break."

The couple stared at each other with intense looks. England understood the worries of his wife, which was why he tried to hide his small sickness. Yet, he clearly failed as he was on the receiving end of her worried green eyes, which begged for him to agree with the idea. He wanted to sigh so badly, but didn't. The idea sounded splendid, but he couldn't just drop everything and go on a vacation. His fingers intertwined with hers and gave them a firm squeeze. He tried to explain to her from his view point:

"Chloe, love, I understand that you're worried. But the people need me. I can't just abandon them."

"You're not abandoning them. All I'm asking of you is to go on a vacation for at least a few days."

"But the paperwork-"

He was cut off with a raised eyebrow. London rested a hand on her hip. She raised her voice a bit:

"May I remind you that you have a monarchy still up and running? They have been doing much of your paperwork for centuries. I don't think that giving the queen some of the paperwork will do any harm. Ah- ah!" She placed an index finger on his mouth, which he was ready to open to say something. "They do have some power. You can give the queen related paperwork to whatever she has control over. The rest of your paperwork will still be here when we'll return."

England protested:

"I can't just bother Elizabeth with the paperwork."

"Yes you can. I did it for you."

The nation was about to say something, but stopped. He stared at her with suspicious wide eyes, which turned into realization. He spouted in disbelief:

"Why do you keep doing things behind my back?"

London looked smug as she poked his chest.

"That is because, when your health is a concern and you ignore it, it's my job, as your wife, to make the decision for you. And don't act like I've done bad things behind your back. How many times have I helped you by doing that?" England stared at her in silence. That was enough of an answer for her. "Now, I've already packed our clothes and anything that we need for the next few days. I've even grabbed a _few_ sessions of Doctor Who, Sherlock and Merlin to watch. I also called in 'favors' from your brothers and the cities, to back off until further notice."

"Did you threaten or bribe them?"

Her husband looked at her in suspicion. One thing that his wife was too good at was being a manipulator. He swore that if every other city and nation in the world knew about her true personality, they would be terrified of her. Though, to be fair, she really did help him more than did damage. So he couldn't complain about any of this. Yet, the last time she manipulated his brothers and the cities, they stopped coming to their doorstep for a good century. He wasn't sure what she did, but it helped with the headaches and kept the abuse away, temporarily. Rather than giving him an answer, she continued from where she left off.

"I'll allow you to bring only a few stacks of paperwork with us, but that's it. Anymore and I'll burn or throw them away." She smiled at him with innocence, but her eyes darkened with promise. "No laptop. I also hid your cellphone."

"W-Wait- what? You hid my phone-"

"I'll get going on with dinner and leave you to your devices. Make sure to finish quickly, because after we finish eating we're leaving. If you want to bring anything else, just put them in the blue suitcase with the DVD's. You know which one I'm talking about. Love you!"

"Chloe, get back here!"

London ignored the yells of her husband and sprint out of his office. England ran to the door to look down the hallway to which she ran down, but found it was deserted. He cursed rather colourfully. Though, he wouldn't admit it to anyone that he walked back inside with a smile.

-ooOOoo-

It was only half a day since England and London were found in their vacation house.

The vacation house was located well outside of the city that London represented. There were very few houses nearby, all of which were owned by equally as isolated people. For the most part, forests and fields dominated the land. The house itself was old, as it was built and renovated since their marriage in the 1600's. It was ridiculous, at first, for their house to be located so far away from the city. But, in the end, it was well worth it as it provided escape from the ever growing human population and technology. It was especially useful during the Industrial Revolution, as London had a hard time managing to live in their current home during that time.

London found England in the living room, as he stared at a book that he brought along. His body fidgeted in his spot at the armchair. His eyes looked like they read the words, through his reading glasses, but she knew that it wasn't the case. His eyes were a bit foggy. His right hand fingers twitch, as they formed in a way that they tried to figure out what happened to a writing utensil. She ignored it and placed a tray full of materials for tea break. Her arrival snapped the man out of his mind.

England looked over at the female figure then at the table and sighed as he took off his glasses. He wordlessly accepted the tea, but his eyes sent her a message of thanks. He looked into his earl grey and saw something different.

"Why is there a piece of lemon in my tea?"

"You're not feeling well. It's best if you drink something that will help you."

"I presume you put honey in here as well?"

"Of course!"

London answered with a smile. She turned over to the windows and pulled open the blinds, to allow for the couple to look out into the outdoors with ease. She sat back down with her own cup. The couple sat in comfortable silence, though there was a bit of tension in the air. It was not the sort of tension that was found between a couple that had a fight. It was a tension of uneasiness and more so directed at other objects rather than at their respectful lover. The couch and armchair were rather close to each other, so it made it easy for their legs, which were closest to each other, to brush the other's leg. It was mostly an unconscious reflex, but on London's side, it was a bit more focused.

London kept a close eye on her husband. She tried not to make it too obvious. Though, she was sure it was quite clear to the man. She noticed how his gaze stared at one particular direction. When she followed the direction of the gaze, she met the windows. She studied the outdoors as well, soon found herself relaxed with the view.

England thought back to the older days, where nature all but dominated society. Cities of today were mere villages, where everyone knew each other personally, whether or not they liked it. The sky was always present, no matter if it was covered with dark clouds or not. Not even wars could destroy the nature around them, but they did leave a scar behind in some cases. The air was much clearer during those days. It was almost like a distant memory, where he remembered the feelings but not quite the touch or taste.

With the world of the last few centuries, he forgot about what true nature looked like. He voiced out in a soft murmur:

"I want to go for a walk."

London looked up at him surprised. She asked with wide eyes:

"Are you sure? Do you feel well enough to-"

"I'm sure. If it starts to bother me, I'll speak up."

England promised her. Yet, both knew that he may not keep to that promise. He was a stubborn man, who went through worse things than sore muscles. His scars proved that. He didn't rule over an empire for nothing, after all. London wanted to object, but when she opened her mouth she snapped it closed in defeat. There were things that she could do to convince the man, but she knew that it wouldn't make either of the two happy in the end.

For the time being, she decided to keep her mouth shut.

-ooOOoo-

After the tea break, the duo changed into more appropriate outdoor outfits and left after they locked everything.

The couple walked in comfortable silence through the forest. Their hands intertwined as they guided each other through the land. Neither of the couple dared to raise their voice, as they were too busy drinking in the nature around them. London glanced over at England, who looked so in peace that it made her heart flutter in happiness. She made a good decision.

While the woman was about to continue her way forward, her arm was jerked back, which made her halt in her tracks. She looked over her shoulder at England, who simply stood there, rolling his head from side to side. She knew a lot about him, even from before their marriage. She may not believe in fairies, unicorns and such anymore. But what she did believe in was magic. She witnessed the real deal many times. When her husband acted out of the norm and spacy in certain situations, there was no normal explanation to be given.

England interrogated his wife:

"Would you say I'm out of my mind, if I tell you that I feel more connected to my land, here?"

The man looked at her with mystic forest-coloured eyes. London didn't say anything at first. She studied his behaviour a bit longer, so to make the appropriate responds. She understood what he meant, but she never had the same connection. She wasn't a nation, after all. Of course, there was _some_ connection to be made. The difference was, however, was that she had only a few people for her to look over. This man, he had a whole land, a good chunk of the Earth, underneath his protection. The woman moved closer to him, wrapping an arm around his own. She answered with a shaken head and a smile:

"No… this is your home, no matter where you go. I believe that Mother Earth, or Magic, is singing out to you."

England smiled a bit, in relief. He nodded and led her to a fallen tree trunk. The duo sat on it and simply reconnected with their home.

The one thing that was there when they were brought into this world and would still be there when they'd make their departure.


End file.
